


Safety Precautions

by Tsundere_Icecream



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:40:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsundere_Icecream/pseuds/Tsundere_Icecream





	Safety Precautions

John stomps down the stairs buttoning his cuffs, hair still wet and dark from the shower he took ten minutes ago. He’s got a date that night and he’s already late. He half glances over and his eye catches sight of a box of what looks like old case files with half of its contents strewn across the kitchen table. He shakes his head and moves towards the hallway, and that’s when he smells it. 

Sherlock’s scent is fairly light to begin, and add to that the fact he always keeps himself drugged on so much suppressants and wears thick coats and thick scarves, it’s almost impossible to pick it up. But for some reason John can do so now, and like those few times he smelled it before it strikes him how amazing it is.

The omega’s smell is deliciously sweet, John’s nostrils flare as he drinks in as much of the delicate ambrosia as possible: honeyed berries with hints of vanilla and lavender. A large pounding wave of molten lust infiltrates his bloodstream, his broad nostrils flare even wider, a bull in rut as his pupils dilate pitch black. He slowly makes his way into the living room. 

There he sees him. The omega. Looking quite adorable, sitting cross-legged on the floor with another box in front of him, files and papers surrounding his skinny frame. With his hands in prayer position, Sherlock looks for all the world like some scolded child at church. 

It’s happened before, from time to time, John comes to the flat to find Sherlock either sitting on the rug, working on some task or another, case related or origami or some other craft work, or like other times, Sherlock will be curled up into a ball, unconscious from taking too high a dose of suppressants and other drugs. And as in all those other times, John is struck with how small and fragile the omega like this, not wearing his huge wool coat, and 

this meaning not being able to utilize his greatest omega defense, those long, swift, prey-like legs, that dart him away from predators. Normally Sherlock’s senses are keenly aware of his settings, but now he’s lost in his mind palace, something he never does outside. He isn’t even wearing his huge wool coat either. 

John can tell from how it looks like he’s sleeping, long auburn lashes fluttering across high pale cheeks, that he’s locked deep away.

John steps into the room and the omega goes suddenly very still, aware of an alpha present. He relaxes a second later having worked out it’s only John. 

“That the case you’re working on?” John grunts, sounding rougher than he meant it to.

“Cases.” The omega clearifies, keeping his eyes still shut.

John nods, jaw clenching, blood throbbing. God, what’s come over him. The alpha’s mouth waters as he steps closer, having to resist the impulse to wrap his hand around that long, thin, classically omegan neck and press his nose against the soft, tender skin there. 

Sherlock’s nose does that cute crinkle thing as he sniffs the air.

“John” he gasps. “Did you shower in your own sweat. You positively reek of....” His light blue eyes bloom open and looks up at John. Upon seeing the darkened eyes of the silver-haired alpha towering above him, the omega ducks his head, pink coloring the fair white of his cheeks. “...nevermind,” he finishes shyly. 

“You’re one to talk,” John retorts clumsily. The omega’s eyes don’t miss how John’s hands are clenching at his sides. Seeing the little tinge of fear in Sherlock’s face John steps back, regains some distance from the enticing little omega. He’s breathing heavily He’s never had a problem regaining control in the past and it feels strange to be distracted by such fierce lust take like this. “Did you forget your injection today?“ He accuses gruffly. 

Sherlock pushes his bottom lip out. “I took my normal amount, ” he answers softly, defensively, and biting his lip for a moment he finds anew his haughty voice, and continues, “which I might add is the precautionary double dose I always take.” His fair blue eyes narrow as he looks over John’s appearance. “It must be your imagination then.” 

John thinks he wants to say something else, press John on the matter but his lips press together, as tight as the plump bow shape allows them. 

“Still going out with the teacher I see. How boring.” Sherlock says distastefully. 

“Don’t try to ruin this one for me, Sherlock.” He growls. “I need this.” And God he does. He can’t get rid of it, a hot burning itch he feels in his blood won’t leave him no matter how many times he takes his alpha cock into his hands. Sweat is already soaking through his underarms. “That last case with Hallard, that one you ran away from me for, and I stood around uselessly while you almost got caught by Hallard himself.


End file.
